When They All Found Out
by Mizzy
Summary: A series of fics on the “What if…” premise of: "What if everyone found out about Monica and Chandler in a different way to the series?"
1. The One With All The Smiling

**~~~~When They All Found Out~~~~**

A series of fics by Mizzy (castle_ebgb@yahoo.co.uk), all on the "What if…" premise of:  
"What if they all found out about Monica and Chandler in a different way to the series?" All of the fics are stand-alone, unrelated to each other.

Friends does not belong to me, it belongs to Bright-Kauffman-Crane productions and WB. I'm just playing in the sandpit of "Friends", and I will return everything - including buckets, spades and starfish - when I'm done. 

Dedicated to fellow C/M addict, AnHonestMoose ()

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**(i) The One With All The Smiling **

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_(Assuming "The One With All The Kips" occurred, and Joey knows, but no one else does. Takes place at end of season 6.)_

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Joey stared at Chandler, making the worst for once of his Italian-American features. It was one of the few facial expressions that Joey could pull that was an instant turn-off to most women. Some women would have been attracted to Joey just for the fact that he _was _a "Days of our Lives" regular, but Joey had stopped believing those types of women were actually real a long time ago. 

The stare was one of those disbelieving stares that made Joey's eyes bulge a little, his eyebrows lift up involuntarily and his mouth hang open. 

"You're going to ask her _tonight?_" 

Chandler did that embarrassed "I'm-a-goof" smile, a small, quirky smile that was one of his cuter expressions. "A-huh. Here's the ring to prove I'm no joker."  
  
Joey didn't get the _Rocky Horror _quote, but looked impressed none-the-less. "Huh. You not being a joker." He took the small box that Chandler was holding reverently, and opened it. Joey edged a look around. Gunther was giving them a bug-eyed look from over the counter, and Joey flung the ring back at Chandler with speed that would have done Mighty Mouse proud.

"Not even in an alternate universe, Jo-meister." Chandler scrunched up his nose, and Joey felt a little more relieved that Chandler was acting more in character and doing an uglier expression. "But here's where I need your help." 

"I'm all ears. Apart from the other parts of me, like my nose, my eyes, my arms, my legs, my-" 

"-Right, Joey." Chandler looked a little chagrined, and Joey smiled sheepishly. "Uh, I need you to take Phoebe, Rachel and Ross to the cinema. I've already told Mon that I'm going to arrange this, so she's going to say she doesn't want to go." 

Joey looked unconvinced. "What do you want me to take them to see?" 

Chandler pressed a $20 and a $10 bill into Joey's hands. "You figure it out. Say you got a cash bonus." 

Joey nodded. "Okay." He pocketed the money, planning to make the others pay their own way. 

"Thanks, man." Chandler squeezed Joey's shoulder in thanks, and caught a weird glance from Gunther. Shrugging it off, Chandler watched as Joey crammed the last of his muffin into his cheeks and skipped away with a quick, mumbled excuse punctuated with cake crumbs. He wiped the remains off his face, and the world went black. Hands were clamped over his eyes, and Chandler managed to assuage the rush of fear that automatically churned in his gut when that happened. 

"Guess who," a soft female voice said. 

A distinctive smell of rosewater and vanilla wafted from his captor, and Chandler allowed himself a small smile. "Phoebe?" 

An annoyed cluck was followed by an irritated: "No." 

"Rachel?" 

"No."

"Ah, well then. Sherlock Homes said something about if all the possible events are discounted, then the impossible - however improbable - must be true. But you sure don't _sound _like Aretha Franklin…" 

This earned Chandler a playful smack from Monica as she released him, mock-glared at him and cautiously sat down next to him. 

"I saw Joey leave. Is he-"  
  
"Yeah. I gave him $30, but knowing him he'll spend it all on popcorn _before _the movie starts." Chandler made as if to put his arm around her shoulders, but suddenly remembered where they were, and tried to casually put it beside him. Monica looked a little regretful that he couldn't put his arm around her shoulders. 

"Do you ever-" 

"-regret not being able to tell the world?" Chandler gave a small shrug. "It's been going well up until now."  
  
"Two years and you say _well_?" Monica teased, pushing her lengthening hair behind her shoulders. "It's just-" She floundered for a second. "It's just - being public-" Monica gestured with her hands for a second. "What's the worst that could happen?" 

"Your brother could run me down with a mattock and kill me, kill me dead," Chandler affirmed. Monica rolled her eyes and refrained from commenting. Chandler seemed to be far away for a second, then he shifted on the sofa, looking at her with an almost whimsical expression. He reached down and took her hands lightly in his own, as if she'd break if he held on too tightly. "Or the whole world could not know forever how in love with you I am." 

That was obviously not what Monica was expecting, and her mouth dropped open. She didn't manage to make the expression look quite as gormless as Joey did. "That might be pretty bad," Monica commented, trying to keep her voice light, her cheeks flushed.  
  
Chandler smiled his crinkly smile, the one Monica had never known in the beginning how much she would love seeing, and now made standing a little more difficult. "Earth-shakingly bad." 

"Hey, guys." 

The voice was light, high, ditzy… Chandler didn't even need to turn his head to see it was Phoebe that had just come into the café. He did though, and tried to smile casually at the dotty blonde. Phoebe was looking at them as if she'd swallowed a sock. 

"Uh, what's with the hand-holding?" 

Monica stared in horror at Chandler, and they let go quickly. Chandler squinted, coming up with a story. "I was- showing her the words and actions of 'row, row, row your boat'," he lied. 

Phoebe's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Hmm." Then her eyes lit up. "Hey, can you teach me them too?" She dropped herself haphazardly between Monica and Chandler, holding out her hands to him. 

"Uh, I've got to go," Monica said quickly, hiding a giggle behind her hand and picking her handbag up off the floor.

Chandler pulled his '_thanks a whole lot_' face at Monica's back, and turned back with a hesitant smile to Phoebe, thinking detachedly that it was the first smile he'd faked all day. "So, row, row, row your boat."  
  
"A-huh," Phoebe said with a maniacal grin, gripping his hands with hers. 

----- 

"So how many times did you end up singing it?" 

Chandler frowned, twisting the edges of his bread roll between his fingers and frowning at the memory. "Must have been about seventeen times until Gunther came over. He offered us free coffee." 

"Really?" Monica looked impressed. Chandler was having a hard time noticing, as she was wearing that little red Spanish number she'd bought a few months ago to cheer _him _up. The funny thing was, it worked every time. "He liked your singing that much?" 

"Not really. He gave us the coffee to stop us singing and walloping into the sofa." Chandler took a nervous sip of his tap water. "I guess he didn't want to throw his most regular customers out." 

"So, what film did Joey take the others to see?"  
  
"Land Before Time IX. He got Ross there 'cause it was dinosaurs, Phoebe there 'cause they were environmentally-friendly herbivore cute dinosaurs, and Rachel there 'cause she fancies the clerk at the popcorn desk." 

"Ah." Monica looked amused. 

"What's the grinning about?"  
  
"They're going to have to sit through a Land Before Time movie with Ross," Monica explained. "I sat through _one _with him, and I tell you - never again. He sits there going - _oh my god, the Acepholasaurus didn't have a tail bone! What were they thinking! _- or _the Pterosaur and Muttaburrasaurus weren't even in the same time period!_." 

"Are they real dinosaurs?" 

"Haven't got a clue." 

Chandler snorted, moving aside to let the waiter put down their starters, and looking at his hands thoughtfully for a second. "Uh- Monica." 

Monica pulled her hand back from reaching for her fork. "Yes?" 

Chandler leaned over the corner of the table, and let his hands rest gently on top of hers. "There was another reason I wanted to come here tonight-" 

"Oh my god!" 

Chandler frowned. "Well, yes, but-"

"No, no, it's Richard!" 

"Huh?" 

----- 

"So you spent the entire night with Richard and his date?" Joey looked on the verge of sympathy. 

Chandler nodded dully. "Although it was more like Richard's date and I watched Monica and Richard on a date from the sidelines." 

"You didn't get to ask her?" 

"Nope." Chandler sunk his hands into his pockets. "Did you have a nice time at the movies?" 

"Did I _ever_!" Joey was smirking. 

Chandler's mouth dropped open this time. "You got off with someone in the cinema?" 

"On the back seats," Joey said flippantly. "This chick was so _hot_. Her kids wanted to see the movie, so we let them stay with Uncle Ross and Aunty Rachel and sneaked into the back of a porno film. Let me tell you, there was more action going on in the seats than on the screen." 

"I'll bet," Chandler said. There wasn't really all that much you could say to that, after all. 

"You're still going to ask her, though?" 

Chandler's eyebrows knotted together. "Why wouldn't I?"

----- 

"I've had _the _weirdest day." Monica slumped into her chair, not even bothering to take her jacket off as she kicked off her high heels and - after a second - bent down and stored them neatly under the side table. Ross was over by the counter, making a phone call, and Joey, Rachel, and Phoebe were on the sofa, eating pizza right out of the boxes. She leaned over and took a slice, waving it around as she spoke to punctuate her words. "Richard came into my restaurant today." 

Instantly, all the attention was on her except for Ross in the background who continued talking into the phone. Monica was too absorbed in her weird day to even notice it was _her _phone and Ross was probably increasing her phone bill again. 

"He did?" Rachel was instantly on the edge of her seat, looking concerned. "What did he want, honey?"

Monica settled further back into the chair, still waving the pizza around distractedly. "He said he still loved me, and wanted to have children with me. He still wants to marry me."

"But he _can't_!" Joey exclaimed before he could catch what he was saying. Monica looked at him hurriedly, her expression still soft and confused. 

"Why not, Joey?" Phoebe wrinkled her nose. "If he's offering her everything now…" 

"But I wanted it _then_, not now…" Monica said softly. She made to wave the slice of pizza away, but Joey yanked it out of her hand. 

"Didn't your mom ever tell you not to play with your food?" He chided. 

Monica pulled a face at Joey. 

"If he really loved you he would have wanted it then," Joey mumbled, looking at the pizza slice sadly. 

"Oh, come on, it's not like you have all that many other options," Phoebe said dismissively. "Someone who takes six months to get over… Mon, that's longer than any of the relationships you've ever _had_."  
  
"Not true," Monica murmured, biting on her lower lip. 

"So you gonna say no?" Rachel folded her hands in her lap. "But-"

"But nothing. If he thinks he can swarm back into my life like this, drop a bombshell that big, and expect me to give up everything for him, then he's-"

"Deluded but still very hopeful there's a chance even though he's a big, big idiot?" 

Monica stared at Richard, then stared accusingly at a smirking Phoebe and Rachel. She turned to Rachel, her eyes narrowing. "You hid him in _my _room?"  
  
"_He_ is still here." Richard stepped forwards in front of the television set. Ross finished his phone call to stare bemusedly at the scene. Monica flushed, embarrassed. "And he's hoping you didn't mean all that," he said gently, stepping over, bringing Monica to her feet by holding onto her elbow. 

"Bu-" Flustered, Monica glanced around at the faces staring at her. Joey looked shocked and disgusted, Ross was trying to look menacing and protective of Monica, while Rachel and Phoebe were smirking over their pizzas. "Richard, I _can't_."

"That's what I said!" Joey said with an affirming grunt. "See, I'm not _always _dumb." 

"Shut up!" Rachel hissed. "He's proposing!" 

Monica barely registered the words as Richard dropped to the floor in front of her, holding one of her hands in his own as he looked up at her pleadingly. "Monica, just hear me out. I know I messed up. I had my chance, and I let it slip by. But I'm not about to make the same mistake twice. I love you. I _want _you to have my children. Marry me."  
  
"I-" Monica managed, before a familiar intake of breath caught her attention, and she glanced up to see Chandler in the doorway, looking pale and defeated, holding onto the door handle for support. He looked at her for a long second, then smiled almost regretfully, and Monica knew what that last smile was all about. He was giving her the choice, loving her enough to let her move on if that's what would make her happy, while still desperately hoping she wouldn't. 

With that silent support, knowing Chandler was still poised to flee, Monica turned back to Richard confidently. "I can't. I'm sorry, Richard, but you're too late. You let me go, and I took that freedom. I fell in love again, Richard, nearly two years ago now." 

"I don't understand." Richard shook his head, his hands wavering as if he didn't know what to do with them. Monica heard the door click shut and stopped the beam threatening to cross her face. "Your friends said you were _single_, it-"  
  
Monica shook her head. "I'm sorry, Richard." She leaned up, kissed him on the cheek, kissed him goodbye, and Richard felt it. He inwardly crumpled while remaining outwardly strong. 

"I hope he's worth it. I hope he makes you happy. And if he ever hurts you," Richard inclined his head slowly, sadly, "you know where I am." 

"I know." Monica reached up, gave him a simple hug, and fell away. He stared for a long moment, turned and walked away out of the apartment, out of her life, out of their lives. 

"Mon, that was an _awful _thing to do!" 

"Excuse me?" Monica put her hands on her hips, and looked at Rachel. The elfin brunette was looking at Monica as if she were mad for letting Richard go and saying _no _to his proposal. "Telling the _truth _is an awful thing to do?" 

"You still lied to him," Phoebe said quietly, her pretty eyes narrowed. 

"No, I-" 

"She didn't lie." Monica looked up at Chandler gratefully, her eyes moist with desperation, and she nodded slowly, encouraging him. All eyes moved to Chandler, and the brunet wrung his hands slowly, then lifted his chin, suddenly determined. His mouth twisted, a wry smile that Monica knew so well, and she tensed, knowing what decision he had come to, what decision he'd _had _to come to. He stepped forwards softly but hesitantly, and moved behind Monica, simply laying his hands on her shoulders. "I-" The normally verbose comedian slid his eyes shut and felt Monica take his hand gently. A soft audible gasp from someone else could be heard, and he opened his eyes. "We've been… a we… for some time now." 

"You and Monica?" Rachel's eyes were on stalks, and she clutched the edge of a cushion desperately. "Since when?" 

"Since London, baby!" Joey said through his cereal. Ross, Rachel and Phoebe glanced at him, and he flushed. He held up his hands. "Hey, don't look at me like that, man! I'm not the one wanting to propose to your sister!" 

Ross and Monica managed just about the same fish-expression at just about the same time. Monica turned in Chandler's grasp to look at him incredulously, whereas Chandler just glared at Joey accusingly for a long minute before turning to the woman looking up at him with soft doe-eyes. 

"I was going to ask you last night," Chandler murmured, wishing he could stare at his feet, unable as he was to look away from Monica. 

"But I spent the whole night reminiscing with Richard instead." Monica sounded annoyed with herself. 

Chandler shrugged. "I guess I thought maybe- maybe if- if he was willing to give you everything, and you'd be happy with him in a way you couldn't be happy with me- then I'd have to let you go." His hands on her upper arms tightened. "And I'm gladder than you'll ever know that I don't have to. I love you." 

Monica brought up one of her own hands, trailed it down his face gently as if memorising his features beneath her fingertips. "I love you too." There was some sort of cooing sound from the background which they both ignored. "I think I can know a little of how glad you are."  
  
"Marry me?" 

Once upon a time, Chandler had thought those two words would be the hardest words to say, along with "I love you" and "I was wrong, but let's try again." The last of those Monica had helped him say, "I love you" had been hard to say at first until he knew he believed them, but "marry me" - right then, right at that time - was somehow easier to say then "of _course _I'll accept free Rangers tickets for tonight if there are no strings attached." 

The one word answer to that question was one Monica had always known she would be able to say. She'd envisaged the various ways in which it may be asked, and knew her answer would be a dazzling 'yes!' 

"Yes," Monica said, but it wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. There was a lump in her throat, her eyes suddenly seemed too wet and her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, but 'yes' was managed, and 'yes' was the only answer she could ever imagine giving him. 

Chandler was fumbling now in one of his pockets, and he reached his hand eventually out to slide on a ring, and Monica didn't even look. She flung her arms tighter around his neck and he kissed her, slowly, softly and demandingly, almost as if he was showing the world that she was his. She could almost imagine the heat being a tangible brand for everyone to see. Pulling away, she could still feel his breath, hot on her skin, and she knew she was blushing. 

Monica didn't quite know what was supposed to be said next in a proposal so publicly done. "I hope Ross doesn't have a mattock," weren't the words that had been in her fantasy, but as her fantasy had pretty much dissolved straight from 'yes' to 'I do', she wasn't all that bothered. 

Chandler was looking worried now as Ross moved towards them, and he involuntarily stumbled backwards. Monica moved with him, keeping her hand in his. 

"Since London, huh?" Ross glared at Monica, his arms folded menacingly over his chest. His black suit and yellow tie were skewed, and he looked more threatening when he was really mad than when he was just pretending. 

"Yes," Monica said, tipping her chin up and feeling almost defiant. 

"Since London, huh?" Ross repeated, glaring now at Chandler. 

Chandler stared back coolly. "No." Both Ross and Monica, had they known it, were wearing the same befuddled expression. Chandler winced a little. "Maybe it was a bit-" He gestured with his free hand. "_Before that?" _

Ross was foaming at the mouth, but by the way Phoebe and Rachel were whacking him with a kitchen roll Chandler knew that he'd come around eventually. Monica was looking at him a little differently, with a small hovering secret smile, that told Chandler all he needed to know, that this was how it was supposed to be. 

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	2. The One With Chandler In Limbo

**~~~~When They All Found Out~~~~**

A series of fics by Mizzy (castle_ebgb@yahoo.co.uk), all on the "What if…" premise of:  
"What if they all found out about Monica and Chandler in a different way to the series?" All of the fics are stand-alone, unrelated to each other.

Friends does not belong to me, it belongs to Bright-Kauffman-Crane productions and WB. I'm just playing in the sandpit of "Friends", and I will return everything - including buckets, spades and starfish - when I'm done. 

Dedicated to fellow C/M addict, AnHonestMoose ()

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**(i**i******) The One** With Chandler in Limbo****

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_(Alternate ending to "The One After Ross Says Rachel.)_

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"Oh right, maybe I'll just go home," Phoebe said hurriedly, grabbing her bag and breezing over to the door with the rushed gait of a guilty person. 

Monica wrapped her hands around her stomach, feeling an unusual anguish in the pit of her stomach as she watched Phoebe and Joey hurriedly leave the apartment. The door closed, and she tried to focus on that rather than the warmth spiraling in her spine, a tingling sensation that seemed attuned to Chandler's presence. It was disconcerting, something she felt strongly, but it also felt familiar somehow. 

The atmosphere certainly was tense, but whether it was with longing or regret or uncertainty she couldn't be sure. She knew she had to say something, break the silence, and turned to him, lost for words. "Well, we certainly are alone." 

"Yes!" Chandler murmured, a little too quickly, swaying slightly on his feet. "Good thing we have that, 'Not in New York' rule." 

He didn't look too enthusiastic at those words, almost as if he wished they hadn't made that rule. Monica pushed those thoughts down, putting them down to wishful thinking, and trying not to remember the way she felt when he touched her… _'Monica, stop it. He's your _best friend_. You did this with Kip, and it ruined everything. You can't lose such a great friend.' She tried to look anywhere but his eyes, which were urging and soft and enticing, and she swallowed. She _had _to say something, to communicate to him how much she'd needed, _craved_, that contact. "Right. Umm, listen since we're-we-re on that subject, umm, I just wanted to tell you that uh, well, I-I was going through a really hard time in London, what with my brother getting married and that guy thinking I was Ross's mother." _

"Right," Chandler said. He sounded a little disappointed, and his smile seemed a little false at the edges. Monica winced inwardly, wishing she would stop wrongly analyzing his actions. He didn't want to repeat it, it was a one time only, strange occurrence in a foreign country. People _did _do strange things in weird countries, after all… 

The pit of her stomach was less warm now, and it felt more like a stone was there, heavy and painful. "Well, an-anyway," Monica gamely continued, knowing all she wanted to say was _screw the past, screw the fact this might be a mistake, things like that just _don't happen_ between friends! At least not to me!_ "I just-" -_want this to continue_- "that night meant a lot to me. I guess I'm just trying to say thanks."  
  
"Oh," Chandler murmured to his toes, before looking up at her with a soft smile and a light in his eyes she'd never thought she'd see again. "Y'know, that night meant a lot to me too, and it wasn't because I was in a bad place or anything, it just meant a lot to me 'cause, you're really hot! Is that okay?" 

_Okay that you're happy it happened because you like my physical appearance? No! I want you to want _me_, who I am…_ Monica managed a laugh, because his declaration was still _him_, still funny, even though it seemed to hurt at the same time. "That's okay," she said, wrinkling her nose and smiling back.   
  
"And I'm cute too," Chandler prompted. He had that slightly upset look smothered by a smile, the one that said he wasn't entirely happy with the situation. Monica ignored it, and put it down to wishful thinking again. 

"And you're cute too," Monica said ruefully, shaking her head but still amused. 

"Thank you!" Chandler moved forwards, and she automatically let her arms move into the hug. She leant into him, inhaling the fragrance she detachedly found she knew so well, cinnamon and coffee and vanilla, and forced herself to step back. "All right, I gotta go unpack." 

"Okay," Monica said, feeling the exact opposite of the word.   
  
"Bye." Chandler looked as if he'd thought better of using that word, lingering there for a moment too long, and their eyes locked slowly, the expression the same. Regret, longing, sadness. He turned slowly on his heel and left the apartment, not looking back. Monica stayed still until the door clicked shut, and moved as if to go forwards. Her feet led her forwards, almost to the door, and then she turned back. She turned again, strode right to the door, and let her hand rest on the doorknob, unaware that Chandler's hand had stilled in the same position on the other side. Feeling like it was the end of the world, she sank to the floor, leaning her head against the door and curling up against it. 

----- 

_C'mon man, just open the door. Make some quip. _Tell _her how you really feel!_

Cursing the fact that he was such a coward, Chandler eventually pulled his hand away from the doorknob and strode across the hall to the door to his own apartment. He turned when he thought he heard the sound of her footsteps, light and even on her wooden floor, and shook his head. _Wishful thinking, huh?_

Turning back to the door, he let his head rest against the door, the hard surface not even distracting him. Lifting his head up slowly, knowing Joey would be inside, he didn't know if he wanted to go in. He just wanted to _go over there and tell her, tell her the truth tell her you-_

Chandler lifted his head up long enough to hit it against the door, and then stood upright, forcing a neutral expression on his face. He opened the door to his own apartment, and walked straight past Joey who was on the floor with a bag of birdseed, trying to get the birds to eat, and Joey's greeting fell on deaf ears. He went straight to his room, shutting the door behind him and dropped to his bed amongst his unopened bags. It must have been half an hour later when he finally heard the rapping on the door, sharp and concerned, in a syncopated pattern that could only be Joey. 

"What is it, man?"

Joey's voice came back muffled through the door. "Just wanted to see if you were okay." 

He sounded concerned. Huh. "I'm fine." 

"I don't believe you! Let me in!" 

Chandler couldn't face Joey. "No." 

"Then how I'm gonna know you're okay?"

"Just-" Chandler fell silent. "Okay. I'm not fine. Just leave me alone, 'k?" 

There was a long silence. "If you're sure. I'm going out for chicken, I'll be back in an hour. Do you want anything?" 

"Sure," Chandler said, not knowing if he felt like eating but knowing saying that he wanted chicken would convince Joey that it wasn't something too awful that was wrong. He'd probably have to phrase that a little simpler if he'd actually had to explain that to Joey, however. 

----- 

"Where's Chandler?" Rachel breezed into Central Perk, arms laden with quite a few shopping bags. Phoebe knew she'd been therapy shopping again, trying to get over Ross, and budged over accordingly to give room for all of Rachel's purchases. 

Phoebe shrugged at Rachel, Monica folded her arms, Ross gave another shrug and Joey pouted.  
  
"He said he had to stay upstairs, he's got a report to do," Joey complained. 

"_Again?_" Rachel rolled her eyes. "It's just I ran into Joanna today at work. She asked about him. She's single, wanted to see if he wanted to try it again." 

"I thought that didn't really work out," Ross commented. "Do you really want to set him down that path again?" 

"What path?" Rachel frowned, and started to dig in one of her bags. 

"You know," Phoebe said. "Going out with the same girl after it didn't work out. Like with Janice." She put her head on one side, trying to think of another name. "And Janice!" 

"Don't forget Janice," Joey said with a smirk. 

"Oh yeah!" Phoebe said. "I almost forgot about her." 

"You know, the disturbing thing about that is that she means that," Ross said, earning a few muted laughs from the others. 

"Well, I'm still gonna tell him. I think we should go upstairs, grab some pizza And force him to eat some with us. He has to eat after all." Rachel was using her 'bossy' tone. 

"Yeah, good idea. He's so miserable! It's making the mood all blue, and stuff," Joey said, leaping to his feet. "C'mon!" Joey was using his bossy tone too. It wasn't quite as effective as Rachel's, but it worked nonetheless. 

----- 

"Pizza'll be ten minutes, Jo, go and get him," Rachel commanded, setting down the phone with a click. 

Joey nodded, got off the sofa and looked around. "I may need some help. Phoebe? Mon?" 

Phoebe got up and smoothed down her skirt, looking smug. "Knew you couldn't do anything without me, Tribbiani," she commented, striding over to join him. Monica toed the carpet with her sandals, looking sheepishly at the ground. 

"Mon?" 

"I, uh, don't know if I'll be any help," Monica mumbled, earning herself a shrewd glance from Rachel and some confused glances from the others. At Joey's uncomprehending glare, she pulled herself to her feet. "Fine, fine!" 

Following behind Phoebe, Monica tried to keep her thoughts neutral, trying not to repeat the same mantra that had been rather destructive over the last three weeks, the one that said _this is all my fault, all my stupid fault_. She closed the door behind her, standing between and slightly behind Phoebe and Joey, slowly raising her head to look at the apartment. 

Chandler was sat on the floor, cross-legged, in the middle of a whirlwind of paper, shaking his head in bafflement and apparently unaware of the intruders. He looked haggard, his face almost gaunt, and Monica felt as if someone had thumped her in the stomach. Suddenly the mantra that had been plaguing her at every step got even more real. _This _was her fault. Only this time, it wasn't exactly Kip. With Kip she'd gotten a proper relationship beforehand. She wasn't in love with Kip. 

The last thought was the one that winded her. She didn't love Kip, but did she love Chandler? The horror pounding against her ribs changed slowly into a painful burn of acid, dissolving her insides at the revelation that the answer was _yes_. It explained a lot, being unable to think of anything but him, thinking of any and all of their encounters, his touch, his breath hot on her skin. It explained the long nighttimes recently, where just thinking his name made the mattress feel as if it was fuzzy, falling beneath her yet keeping her dizzyingly supported in midair. It explained… everything. 

Monica forced her glance back upwards, to see Chandler looking up now with a faintly accusing expression, and forced herself to look directly at him. Their gazes locked, and Monica tried to send him what she'd just learned in the insubstantial contact. He frowned slightly at her, then his eyebrows lifted slightly, barely noticeably, and Monica felt a small rush of satisfaction that maybe he'd understood. He looked away eventually, a little to the right, breaking the contact, but the soft flush on his cheeks was brighter than it had been when they'd walked in. 

"Hey, dude," Joey said, stepping forwards, hopping delicately all over the scattered papers. "You need a break from this. Come over to Rach and Monica's, we're ordering pizza." 

Chandler lowered his glance to the floor, to the pen in his hand, to the scientific calculator blinking at him hazily in the dim light of the apartment, then he looked up, edging a glance to Monica before looking back at Joey. "Yeah, ok. I'm sure this can wait for a few minutes.  
  
"An hour," Phoebe declared. "Any less and I'm coming over and setting fire to every piece of paper in your apartment." 

"Uh, sure, Pheebs." Chandler smiled, a little too quickly. "An hour it is." He looked suddenly chagrined. "Uh, Jo?" 

"Yep?" 

"Could you help me up? My butt's sort of stuck to the carpet," Chandler said, looking embarrassed. 

Joey turned to the two girls, nodding at them. "We'll be right over." 

----- 

"Well, he really _was _trying to do a report of some kind," Phoebe reported as soon as she and Monica made it back into the apartment. "There was paper everywhere, wasn't there, Mon?" 

"It was a paper party," Monica agreed, her tone light and dizzy, and she sat down distractedly on the remote control. The TV fizzled on to the discovery channel, and, blushing, she got up, yanked out the remote control and settled back onto the sofa. 

"Honey, are you all right?" Rachel shifted over on the sofa, looking at Monica worriedly. 

"Uh, yeah," Monica muttered, embarrassed, pressing the stand-by button on her remote, keeping her gaze fixed on the screen as it fizzled off again. 

"So where are they? I mean, if they're coming and all." Ross settled himself on the floor stool. 

"They'll just be a few seconds," Monica said quickly, desperate to sound normal. '_And how can I sound normal when I've just found out that I'M IN LOVE WITH CHANDLER?'_

"Chandler got stuck to the carpet again, huh?" Ross said, sharing a knowledgeable look with Rachel. 

"Heyyyyy, it's Chaaaaaaaaaaaaaandler!" Joey announced proudly from the door, pushing in a slightly red-looking Chandler.   
  
"No need to push me, Jo," Chandler said, brushing carpet fluff from his arms with his hands. "Look, guys, I'm sorry it seems like I've been avoiding you." 

"Hm, how could we come to that conclusion when you haven't even been in the coffee house for the last three weeks," Ross muttered, disgruntled.  
  
"Not when you were there," Chandler said, stepping backwards slightly at the accusing expressions he was receiving. "Not deliberately! I've just had a lot of pressure on at work. A big, big, big project. You know the sort." 

"Eh, well, you're here now. Pizza should be here in five minutes or so," Rachel said. "Come on, Chandler, sit over here." She patted the sofa between herself and Monica. Chandler looked slightly worried for a moment, then took a breath as if he was steeling himself to do something big. He walked past Joey and gingerly sat on the sofa, feeling rather than seeing Monica pull closer to the arm of the sofa so they weren't touching. Ohoebe noticed, and frowned, thinking hard.  
  
"What's up, Rach?" Chandler asked, his voice hitching on the middle word. 

"I ran into someone at work today." Rachel said. "You might remember her. Joanna?"

Chandler winced. "Uh, yeah?"  
  
Rachel pulled a face. "Not interested, right? She said she might be, that's all. And I really think you should make time to date, even with a busy schedule." 

"She's not in your chain of command or anything, though," Chandler said, pursing his lips as Rachel shook her head. "I guess I could-" he faltered at his words.

"You don't want to, though," Rachel finished. "That's okay." 

"It's not that I wouldn't- I mean, she was great, but- " Chandler floundered lamely. 

"It's fine," Rachel said. "It's just some of us were talking, and we thought maybe a bit of action would loosen you up a little." 

"Loosen me up?" Chandler folded his arms, settling back into the seat. "So I'm the tie of the group, hm?" 

"No, we don't mean that!" Phoebe protested. "You've been sad and moody the few times we've even seen you, and it's dragging us all down." She stood up and strode over to the sofa, glaring menacingly. "You, sir, are going to be happy. Do what you need to do to be that way, will you? Get over whatever's keeping you from that." 

"I wish it was that easy," Chandler said. "It's just like I've been stuck in a rut since we came back from London, repeating the same day over and over and-" He stilled, struck by a sudden thought. A wide expression replaced the harassed expression he'd been wearing moments earlier. "Wait a second. I might have something here." 

The others watched in amazement as Chandler stood up and started to walk towards the door, then turned around. "I-" he started, then faltered, looking down at Monica softly. 

Phoebe then suddenly squeaked. 

"I figured it out! Why you're bummed!" She jumped up and down waving her hands. Chandler and Monica stared at her, horrified, while the others looked even more baffled. 

"Huh," Chandler said eloquently, folding his arms over his chest and looking at her. "Why am I bummed?" 

"You had a thing with Monica!" Phoebe beamed brilliantly. "I'm so smart!" 

"A th-thing?" Monica's eyes widened. "We did not have a thing!" 

Phoebe rolled her eyes ostentatiously. "Ah-huh. You've had an argument, or a disagreement, or you've said something you didn't mean! To be honest, you've been quite distant too, Monica. Not as backwards as Mr 'I'm-Going-To-Hide-Myself-Away' over there, but still! I'm right, aren't I?" 

"No," Monica said, the syllable rising and falling as she drew it out in that way she did when the answer really should have been 'yes'. 

"That's crazy. What would we disagree about?" Chandler defended, looking slightly wild. 

"She's onto something here," Ross said, nodding swiftly. "Come on, the sooner you get this argument settled then things can go back to normal."   
  
"There's nothing going on to be settled!" Chandler and Monica said at the same time, panic evident in both of their voices. 

"And that just proves it!" Phoebe crowed. "So, come on, spill!"  
  
Monica rubbed her forehead distractedly, and even Chandler looked a little flummoxed. Their reactions were slow enough to show them that Phoebe was right. 

"Maybe it _was _a little disagreement," Chandler said, shrugging. "But I really have been busy," he rushed on. 

"And what was this disagreement about?" Joey stood up, arms akimbo, standing next to Phoebe to look more menacing. 

"Well- maybe more about something I didn't ask, and I should have," Chandler muttered, rubbing the back of his head and looking tired. 

"So, ask her now!" Rachel cried excitedly, getting to her feet and dragging Monica up by the wrists. 

Monica pulled her hands away, stumbling a few steps back from Rachel. "You know, I'm not the only freakishly strong girl in this apartment."   
  
"Thanks, Monica," Phoebe said with a sudden grin. Monica pulled a wry face and Rachel hid her smile. 

"C'mon, man. Ask her. The worst thing she can do is sit on you and believe me that's not as bad a torture as it used to be," Ross said. 

Chandler looked at Monica sheepishly, and then suddenly it was almost like it was only them in the room. He moved to step forwards closer to her, and then thought better of it, swaying on the spot before stilling. "I-" He ducked his head down before lifting his head back up and looking directly at her. "I'm still running on London time. Does that count?" 

Monica felt like she couldn't stand, and a wide grin slowly crept onto her face. "Oh, that counts." 

The others were confused at the exchange, but none of them could contest that Chandler was happy at that answer. He looked up to the ceiling and exhaled when closing his eyes. A smile was openly playing on his lips as he brought his head down, and stepped forwards quicker than anyone had seen him move before. "Oh good," he murmured, sliding his hands around Monica's hips and kissing her. Monica smiled into the kiss, letting her arms move around his neck, tangling in his hair. She pulled away slightly, happy and finally without that feeling that there was something horribly missing. "I think I love you," Chandler quietly admitted. 

"I think I love you too," Monica whispered back, her face so close to his her words ghosted along his skin. He heard them, though, and rested his cheek against her hair, closing his eyes and pulling her body to his as if it had always belonged there. 

"Does Ross look like he's going to kill me?" Chandler murmured into her hair, his hands holding her gently despite his obvious panic. Monica peeked with one eye.  
  
"No," Monica lied. 

"Cute lie," Chandler murmured, extricating himself reluctantly from the embrace and hiding behind Monica, his hands on her shoulders. He squinted at the group with an embarrassed and shy grin. 

"You had a thing! You had a thing!" Phoebe jumped up and down. "I was _so _right!" She seemed stricken by a sudden thought. "Why didn't I make a bet with anyone? I could have made a killing from this." 

Ross seemed to be awoken by Phoebe's words. "Killing," he said slowly, sounding out the syllables. Chandler stiffened, too frightened to move. "Killing. Killing. KILLING. KILLING! KILLING! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!" 

Everything happened at once. Joey launched himself over the edge of the sofa, landing on Ross' back and managing to hold him off. Rachel joined in, pushing Ross from the front. Ross, enraged, managed to move despite the extra weight, clumping forwards. Phoebe grabbed him by the ankles, slipping and lying face down on the lino, being dragged along too. "Run! Run! We'll hold him off!" Phoebe squealed. 

Chandler looked at Monica, looked at Ross, looked at Monica, then looked back at Ross. "Ross, I'm not kidding about this! This- this is- _Right_, man. It's right. I love her. I'm in _love _with her. I'm sorry. I didn't choose to, it just happened. The fact that she's your sister is, well…" Chandler stepped away from Monica, feeling her take his hand and he resisted the urge to smile the goofy grin he was feeling inside. "Kinda cool, really. If we ever get married, you'll be my brother-in-law! Think of that!" 

"If?" Monica squinted uncertainly at him. 

"When, when," Chandler assured hastily, deciding to think about what he was letting himself in for later.   
  
"Huh," Ross said, just as eloquently as Chandler's use of the paralinguistic feature earlier. "That'd be kinda cool. My sister… and my best friend. My sister… and my best friend." 

Monica stepped forwards, grudgingly letting go of Chandler's hand. "Your sister and _her_ best friend," she affirmed softly. "This isn't anything to do with you, Ross, but I'd rather go ahead with your blessing than without it."

"Okay, guys, okay. You can get off me now," Ross said quickly. 

"You won't kill him? It's so cute, you can't kill him," Rachel protested, her elbow still jammed in Ross' stomach. 

"I won't kill him," Ross promised. "They have my blessing. With the proviso that I _will _kill you if you hurt her." 

Chandler resisted the urge to snort. Today was not a good day to make Ross mad. Today was turning into a brilliant day, and Chandler wasn't the sort to ruin that. Well, to be candid he _was_, but if he did it was anything but voluntary. 

Phoebe let go of his ankles with a suspicious look, and Joey jumped down unsteadily. Rachel stepped backwards dubiously, and her wary glance changed into a grin of happiness, and she turned round to face Monica and Chandler. 

"You know, I actually _do _have that report to write," Chandler said unevenly, grimacing. Monica, Rachel and Ross glared at him, while Joey and Phoebe just looked smug. "But I was thinking of quitting my job anyway," he added, his tone rushed. 

"This is so great!" Rachel squealed finally, as if she'd been bursting to say so all evening, launching forwards and grabbing them both in a hug. 

"Yeah, it is," Monica murmured, blushing when she realised Chandler had said exactly the same thing the same time as her. It was the only answer that seemed to make any sense, after all. 

-----


	3. The One With The Argument

**~~~~When They All Found Out~~~~**

A series of fics by Mizzy (castle_ebgb@yahoo.co.uk), all on the "What if…" premise of:  
"What if they all found out about Monica and Chandler in a different way to the series?" All of the fics are stand-alone, unrelated to each other.

Friends does not belong to me, it belongs to Bright-Kauffman-Crane productions and WB. I'm just playing in the sandpit of "Friends", and I will return everything - including buckets, spades and starfish - when I'm done. 

Dedicated to fellow C/M addict, AnHonestMoose ()

-----

**(i**ii******) The One** With The Argument****

-----

_(Assuming no one knows. Takes place... half-way through Season 5. Ish.)_

-----

"You know, I so don't want to be here right now," Chandler said angrily, getting to his feet and storming out of Monica and Rachel's apartment, the clattering of the mirror frame against the door ringing into the apartment long after he'd disappeared.

Monica wrung her hands, made as if to move to the door, and then thought better of it. He was just being so- so- _insensitive! _All she'd said, when he brought up the idea of telling everyone, was that she was scared of how the others would react, especially as she'd made the mistake of dating a best friend before, and it had all ended horribly.

Apparently Chandler had taken her words directly to heart, declaring loudly that if she thought he was a mistake, maybe she should have said so earlier. Monica hadn't meant it at all like that, she'd _meant_ that it had been a mistake before, and the others would at first only see that it was the same kind of situation and instantly think it doomed, but she couldn't get the words out, and now Chandler was gone and she was left alone in the apartment, hating herself, hating the situation, hating Chandler's damn stupidity and his _stubbornness_. Why, if he would just loosen up and not be so obdurate and _understand _what she was trying to say, maybe they wouldn't have these silly disagreements...

Something in Monica was churning inside, and she ignored the uncomfortable feeling that was trying to tell her that maybe this argument wasn't quite so silly as all the other ones, and maybe this one was her fault. On reflection, her heated choice of words weren't very delicate... but Monica wasn't the kind of woman to stand down and admit she was wrong easily.

Even though it hurt, she turned staunchly away from the door and stomped back off to bed, leaving Chandler time to stew on his own.

-----

Of all the stupid, idiotic, ridiculous things to say! Chandler stormed into his own room in a fury, slamming the door in an attempt to try and make himself feel better. _She thinks this is a mistake, _his brain shouted at him furiously. _She thinks this is a mistake._

Letting out a growl and kicking the first thing in range, Chandler winced as the small desk in the corner of his bedroom collapsed and clattered to the ground in a flurry of wood and paper. "_Damn thing!_" he yelled, aggrieved. Then he paused. "Huh, that helped a little," he commented softly to himself. Looking around wildly, he jumped over to his chest of drawers and pulled out the inflatable hammer that had been a joke present last Christmas from one of the few work friends he had left. Blowing it up, he yelled a battle cry and started hitting everything in sight. Including a drowsy looking Joey, who had opened his door in the middle of his inflatable hammer-fest and was now looking a little angry. _Not as angry as me,_ Chandler defended, feeling a little ashamed.

"Dude, we're trying to sleep through here. Can you keep your yelling down?" Joey scowled. "What are you so mad about, huh?"

Chandler dropped the inflatable hammer. "Uh, just something someone said."

"Hm. Keep the yelling down, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Chandler muttered. "She spent the night?"

"Didn't you hear the yelling?" Joey smiled and nodded at the memory.

Chandler hadn't, because he'd been over in Monica's room, making a little noise of his own seeing as Rachel was out for the night. He covered up the sudden blush that threatened with a quick question. "Is she hot?"

Joey instantly smirked. "Oh, yeah."

Chandler let out another battle yell and bashed Joey over the head with the inflatable hammer again. Joey stormed away, returned with a knife and stabbed a hole in his inflatable toy. Chandler watched it deflate with a pout.

"There's this little thing called _therapy_ for this kind of thing," Joey admonished, a little more awake now.

"Someone just put a _hole_ in my therapy," Chandler accused, casting around for something else to hit Joey with. Joey backed out of the room pretty quickly. Chandler sighed, dropping onto the bed, deciding to wait for _her _to apologise.

-----

Phoebe had brought sandwiches for lunch.

If she'd brought any other kind of food, it might have meant that Chandler could have got out of it, but as it _was_ a public holiday, and it _was_ sandwiches, Joey dumped his date a minute before they were due across at the girls' apartment, and dragged Chandler across with him.

Joey couldn't believe that a) Chandler would want anything for lunch that _wasn't _sandwiches, and b) that Chandler would want to duck out of such a hallowed tradition, of eating lunch as a group when none of them were working. It didn't happen often, but when it did, the group lunch happened without fail.

As it was, the others seemed to notice there was something wrong. _How couldn't they_, Chandler moped. _Monica can barely look at me_. Even Rachel, tired from her obviously fruitful night by the smirk on her face, noticed.

"Can you pass the salt," he said out loud, looking down at his egg mayonnaise sandwich. When no one passed it to him, he looked up in surprise. The salt was sat by Monica. He rolled his eyes, and resigned himself to eating a salt-less sandwich _again_.

"Mon, Chandler asked for the salt," Ross said, around a mouthful of ham and mustard sandwich.

"Oh, it's okay," Chandler broke in, his tone clipped. "She dropped the salt last time, maybe she's scared she'll make the _same mistake twice_."

"I don't do that," Monica protested sourly, picking up the salt and angrily pushing it at him. "I don't make the same mistake twice!"

"Apparently you do!" Chandler muttered into his sandwich, roughly taking a chunk out the sandwich and chewing.

"Okay, I'm definitely missing something here," Rachel said. "Have you two fallen out or something?"

"No."

"No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause it would explain the yelling." Joey was reverently holding his last mouthful of bacon and mustard sandwich. Ross, Monica, Rachel and Phoebe looked at him quizzically. "Chandler hit me with his blow-up hammer this morning." Joey paused for effect. "_Twice_."

"Chandler," Phoebe admonished. "No donut for you!"

"You didn't bring donuts," Chandler muttered.

"Well, if I had, _you couldn't have one, grumpy guts_," Phoebe said, narrowing her eyes in her approximation of an evil eye.

"If you'd brought them, maybe I wouldn't want one!" Chandler retorted, raising his eyebrows and folding his arms, not even flinching when Joey stole the rest of the sandwich from his plate.

"Well, you don't have to want one," Phoebe said. "'Cause now I've hypothetically brought chocolate chip cookies."

Chandler made a growling sound in the back of his throat and covered his face with one hand.

"Someone said something to upset him," Joey explained, through a mouthful of egg mayonnaise.

"Monica, did you insult another of his jokes?" Ross chided his sister, glaring at her.

Monica pulled a face. "No!"

"_Another _of my jokes?" Chandler's eyebrows twitched. "I guess maybe _I'm_ the joke this time." He stood up, pushing the chair away and stomped over the door, yanking it open and walking outside. Monica screwed up her nose and folded her arms, mimicking his words in an incoherent mumble.

"He looked really mad," Rachel commented, noticing Joey's hand sneak towards her half-eaten ham salad sandwich, and she slapped her own hand down, digging in her nails. Joey winced and pulled his hand away, holding it with his other hand and pouting.

The door slammed open again, before Monica could work up a retort to Rachel's comments. "And another thing!" Chandler said loudly, hanging onto the door handle and looking angry. "It's _not _me and it _is _you and you _wouldn't_ have said it if you _didn't mean it_!"

Monica growled and launched herself off her seat to the door. Chandler held her gaze furiously before turning and starting to storm into the hallway. "I never said it _wasn't _me!" Monica said, the words harsh and clipped, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Chandler's brow furrowed and he exhaled sharply. Monica smiled falsely at him, a brief quirk of her lips, and turned on her heel heading back into the apartment. Chandler followed, eyebrows slanted in his fury.

"Like _I'm _supposed to believe you mean what you say anymore. You said it was a _mistake_ and then you said you didn't mean it. Am I supposed to take everything you say as true or false?" Chandler nodded exaggeratedly, sure of himself, his arms folded over his chest.

"It was the wrong word in the heat of the moment!" Monica shrieked. "And that's a disease in my family! Look at my brother!"

Everyone, who had been following the argument disbelievingly, turned to face Ross. Ross blinked in wide-eyed astonishment, then glared accusingly at Monica. "What have _I _got to do with this?"

Monica held out one hand apologetically. "Sorry, Ross, but you _did _say Rachel and not Emily at your wedding."

Ross scowled. "Thanks _so _much for the reminder, Monica."

Monica bobbed a small curtsey. "You're welcome."

Chandler's look was less angry, softened with the shade of calculation on his face. "So you didn't mean it?"

Monica's face relaxed, and her tone softened as she stepped forwards, taking his hands in her own. "No, sweetie. I didn't mean it."

"We're not instantly doomed?"

"Not as far as I know." Monica let go of his hands, and squinted a smile at him. Chandler smiled back.

"Good."

"Why would you be instantly doomed?"

Monica turned at the sound of Rachel's questions, and tried not to grimace. Rachel saw the strained expression on her friend's face before Monica managed to hide it with a more neutral expression, and her mouth fell open.

"Oh, _no_," Rachel whispered, her voice raising as she voiced her suspicion. "No. _No_."

"Oh no!" Chandler repeated, realising that Rachel had worked out the truth behind the argument. "SHE KNOWS! SHE KNOWS!"

"She knows what?" asked a bemused Phoebe.

Monica and Chandler exchanged a panicked glance and then leapt at Rachel. Rachel squeaked, and started to run around the sofa to the TV area. Monica ran around while Chandler leapt over the sofa, messing up the cushions and landing in front of Rachel. Shrieking, Rachel backed up against the TV cabinet.

"Hurt me, I'll squeal," Rachel promised, holding up her hands to make Chandler and Monica back off.

"What, are we in prison now?" Chandler asked, the stressed expression still on his face.

Rachel squinted at him. "You're in _no position to- _HEY!" From up on Monica's shoulder, she kicked a little and pouted as Monica dragged her into her room and deposited Rachel on the bed while Chandler slammed the door shut behind them. Rachel glared at them from the bed, but refrained from screaming. Monica could be scary when she wanted to be, and this was one of those moments.

Chandler secured the door with another chair, knowing it wouldn't block out the sounds.

"You make a sound too loud, I'll throw you out the window," Monica warned, looking meaningfully at the window. 

Rachel gulped. She lifted up one perfectly manicured hand and pointed at Chandler with raised eyebrows.

"You and him?" Rachel asked Monica, incredulous.

"Yes, but you can't say anything, Rach. No one else knows," Monica said softly.

"Oh, this is huge, this is huge." Rachel fanned her hands against her face. "For how long? And why didn't you _tell me?"_

"Since London," Chandler said softly, looking at Monica gently.

"Since _London!"_ Rachel's voice increased in volume, and Monica unconsciously did Ross' 'put the sound down' gesture. Rachel winced.

"We wanted to tell you," Monica said, her voice low. "But well- It was going so well when no one knew, we didn't want to spoil it."

"And then there's the whole Kip mistake," Rachel said, looking from Chandler to Monica, confused as to why Chandler started to repeatedly hit his forehead with his hand and Monica's eyes bugged. She pulled a face. "Monica use that word to describe you two as well, huh?"

Chandler nodded. "But I know this isn't a mistake. I _know_. This isn't a mistake, 'cause I love her."

There was a small clattering sound at the door.

"Your door isn't really sound-proof," Rachel commented lightly, still looking quite happy that she was the first to be told.

Chandler's lips quirked, and she strode over to the door, jerking it open with his right hand. Ross, Joey and Phoebe abruptly pretended to study the carpet. "That's right. _I'm in love with Monica_," he said, shutting the door and dusting his hands off.

Rachel squeaked, clapping her hands together. "This is so great!"

"Yeah," Monica agreed, crossing the room. "I love you too." She kissed Chandler and he enthusiastically returned the kiss. 

Rachel frowned. "Y'know, I didn't really need to see that, thanks."

They continued kissing. It was a make-up kiss, after all, as well as one of relief that they could be public and not sneak around any more. Rachel slid off the bed and hopped out the room, shutting the door behind her and tripping over Joey and Phoebe in her rush, landing on the floor in an inelegant heap.

"So _that _was what they were arguing about!" Phoebe said. "Chandler loves Monica but she doesn't love him!"

Joey's jaw dropped as he bent down to help Rachel up. "Really? 'Cause I just thought those two were an item, but your version makes more sense!"

Ross frowned. "So they're in there talking about it? I'm gonna go in there, and talk some sense into her! My sister and my best friend dating, how cool would that be?" He headed forwards towards the door and disappeared through it.

Rachel winced. "Uh Ross I wouldn't-" she started.

There was a strangled feminine scream, from Ross.

"-go in there," she finished, sagging.

Phoebe and Joey peered around the corner in amusement at the scene of Chandler trying to get out of the window and Monica holding Ross back.

"So they're dating, right?" Joey commented out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh, yeah," Rachel affirmed.

"I liked my version better," Phoebe said. Rachel and Joey looked at her quizzically. "Well, I did! It was so romantic." She clasped her hand and stared off into the distance. Rachel and Joey tried to follow her gaze and exchanged a confused glance when they didn't see anything.

"You know, that's the first time I've heard you mention romantic when you're talking about Chandler," Rachel said, squeezing Phoebe's shoulder.

Phoebe smirked. "That _you_ know about," she said, turning on her heel and over to the table. "JOEY! Did you eat all the remains of the sandwiches?"

Joey froze by the open fridge, in the middle of reaching for a carton of orange juice. "Uh- yeah?"

"Oh, thank goodness. Now we can start eating the hypothetical cookies." Phoebe settled down on one of the chairs.

"Hypo_thetical? _What kind of weird-ass flavour of cookie is _that_?" Joey demanded. Disgusted, he sat down on another chair and pulled a face. He looked up as the door to Monica's bedroom opened again. Ross walked through, smirking, and Monica and Chandler walked through, his arm loosely around her waist. Chandler was smiling, but had a curious bruise on his forehead. "Ross, man, you _hit_ him?" Incredulous, Joey glared at Ross.

Chandler looked embarrassed. "Nuh. I hit my head on the fire escape latch."

"It's called a window," Monica reminded him gently.

"Not when Ross looks like that it isn't," Chandler returned, twisting around to face her.

"That's true," Monica conceded, her nose crinkling as she smiled. "This is kind of cool, being able to do this in public."

"Yeah, it is," Chandler said, a wide smile on his face as he pulled her closer.

"If you're gonna be doing that again, I'm going to have to leave," Rachel said, pulling a face.

"I had to watch you kiss my brother," Monica reminded her.

"That's true," Rachel said quickly. "Kiss away!"

Monica turned back to Chandler, then stopped still at his expression of fear.

"Does Ross still have that expression on his face?" Chandler asked, his voice low and urgent.

Monica looked. "Uh, the cross-eyed squinty one, foaming at the mouth a little?"

"Yep, that one. Maybe we should just hug," Chandler said hurriedly. Monica looked again, and winced.

"Maybe you're right." Monica hugged him, protracting the embrace for a long moment before pulling back and just resting in his arms.

Chandler paused. "I'm not even going to be allowed to be right in public any more, am I?"

"When were you ever right in public when I wasn't?" Monica demanded, a furious expression starting to creep onto her face.

"Well, there was that time with the couscous and--" Chandler took a step back at Monica's glare. "--I love you?" Chandler winced at his ending of the sentence. "You're right."

"See," Monica said with a self-satisfied smirk. "What did I say about you being right?"

"Never happens!" Chandler said brightly.

Monica ruffled his hair with one hand. "Right. Well I have to go to the bathroom, 'k?"

"Okay." Chandler watched her go, and then turned to the others. "I _was _right about the couscous, though, wasn't I?"

The other four nodded.

"I HEARD YOU NODDING!" Monica shrieked through the bathroom wall.

"WELL WE CAN HEAR YOU PEEING!" Phoebe shrieked back.

"PERVERT!"

"LIAR!"

"Dude," Joey said to Ross. "Phoebe and Monica are arguing. Does that mean they're dating too?"

Ross patted Joey's shoulder. "Dude. No."

"All _right_, no need to be so mean about it!" Joey got to his feet again, and started making flicking motions at Ross' head.

"What're you doin', Jo?" Phoebe asked, ignoring Monica's yelling through the toilet door.

"Flicking hypothetical cookie crumbs at Ross, 'cause they taste really nasty. You should buy chocolate chip cookies next time, Pheebs," Joey said, turning on his heel and stomping out of the apartment. The door thudded closed, and then opened a second later as Joey put his head sheepishly around the corner. "And just because Ross and I are arguing, it doesn't mean _we're_ dating too."

"We kinda got that," Rachel said, giving Joey a thumbs-up. Joey returned the gesture and left again. Rachel turned to the table and grimaced. "Hey, where did the firelighters go?"

"Firelighters?" Ross cast around. "Can't see any."

"Urm, Rach? Were they white blocky things?" Ross leant over to where Joey had been sat. "'Cause I think we ought to have a little talk with Joey about how to tell when something is actually, well, you know..."

"Poisonous?" Rachel guessed. 

"I was gonna go with edible, 'cause then he'll also stop eating your leg wax, but sure, poisonous works," Ross said.

"He ate my wax? I just thought that maybe Chandler was using it," Rachel said.

"Hey!" Chandler protested. "I may be dating Monica but I'm not entirely weird!"

"I HEARD THAT!" Monica shrieked.

"I love you?" Chandler returned with a wince. 

Ross thumped him on the shoulder. "Good save," he complimented.

"I HEARD HIM WINCE TOO!!"

"We have got to do something about sound proofing this apartment!" A sudden thought occurred to Chandler. "You know, Rach, did you ever here me and Mon doi-- "

Ross scowled.

"Doing crosswords in there together not messing around naked at all?" Chandler finished, grimacing as he raced through the words.

"Not really. But I could sleep through a hurricane," Rachel explained. "Hang on, there was that time a couple of weeks ago. I could swear she had been arguing with someone about how to spell supposably."

"It's SUPPOSEDLY!" Monica shrieked.

There was a snickering through the wall from the direction of Joey and Chandler's apartment.

"You had Joey in your _room_?" Chandler stared accusingly at Monica as she came out of the bathroom.

"Yeah," Monica said. "He'd left his condoms in there from that time with the box."

"Oh."

"Condoms in the box?" Rachel tilted her head to one side.

"Yeah, he was gonna repopulate the earth with them," Phoebe explained. 

"Yep. Lots of mini Italian-American plastic people, covering the globe," Chandler said, smiling at his own joke.

"Uh, you do know that you can't reproduce with a condom, don't you?" Ross frowned, concerned. Chandler sighed in disgust and turned away, while Rachel sniggered into her hand and Monica hit him over the back of the head. "What?" he asked as they disappeared out of the apartment, filing out in silence. "What did I say? Guys? Guys???"

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	4. The One With The Best Man For The Job

**~~~~When They All Found Out~~~~**

A series of fics by Mizzy (castle_ebgb@yahoo.co.uk), all on the "What if…" premise of:  
"What if they all found out about Monica and Chandler in a different way to the series?" All of the fics are stand-alone, unrelated to each other.

Friends does not belong to me, it belongs to Bright-Kauffman-Crane productions and WB. I'm just playing in the sandpit of "Friends", and I will return everything - including buckets, spades and starfish - when I'm done. 

Dedicated to fellow C/M addict, AnHonestMoose ()

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**(i**v******) The One** With The Best Man For The Job****

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_(Assuming no one found out, even after a year and a half... Warning: not happy. )_

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_From the top, it's a long, long way to fall._

Chandler stared at the blank wall, the white paint searing his eyelids, and he regretted his colour choice when he repainted the wall. Granted, the Ultimate Fireball™ scorch marks had to be hidden somehow before their annual apartment inspection, but maybe white was a little harsh. He'd always hated white. White rooms always gave him the impression of falling, and falling forever, dragging your eyes to a center that kept moving away, and away, and away… 

Plus, white was his dad's favorite colour for his spangly ball gowns, but that was neither here nor there. Not right now, any way, because of last night. 

Last night. _Ah, the stupidity of last night._ How come fate always came in and dealt you one of those stingers when you were already down and dirty? Kicked you in the nuts when you needed it the least? 

He and Monica had had a stupid argument, and the same night, Richard had made his comeback bid, and Monica had accepted. Spurned the only real relationship either of them had been part of for the chance of a previous dream. 

To be honest, how did he think he had a chance in the first place of competing with Richard? _Because you were drunk, drunk on her, addicted. Maybe I can commit myself to one of these rehab clinics with Monica-obsession._ Richard was a doctor. Richard could admit he loved Monica in public. Richard wanted to give Monica everything she'd ever wanted. _And I'd thought, once upon a time, she might have wanted me. What a joke. _

_You're the joke_, his thoughts added dismally. _Richard was her perfect dream. You were just… A poor girl's Richard._

Now everyone was over across the city, celebrating in a top notch restaurant, thinking he just had too many commitments to get out of. He'd earned a hard thwack across the back of his neck from Joey for that, but it was less pain that it would have been having to sit through a "Congratulations, you're engaged to a man who's too old for you and is only willing to have kids because you're the most amazing damn woman on the planet, not because he loves you as much as I do and wants exactly the same thing you do" dinner party. _Yeah, man,_ Chandler thought ironically, _they're _always_ the worst kind of dinner party!_

Chandler taped over the last box with the dogged determination of a broken man, just in time for the rap on the door. He trudged over the door, flashing a regretful smile at the removal men, and let them get on with it. 

It didn't take a long time for the men to pick up all the boxes, and Chandler felt slightly bad that they had to cart them down all those stairs, still rebelliously thinking _at least it's them and not me_. They were taking it into storage. A rare call earlier to his mother had been hard, but exactly what he'd needed. He'd broken down over the phone line to his mom, who'd been instantly supportive and upset on his behalf. He'd spend a few days at her condo in Erie, before trying to get a new life for himself far, far away from New York. The plane ticket was booked for seven in the morning, the hotel room for the night, his boxes due to go into storage in New York until he knew exactly where he would be relocating himself. 

He signed the release forms almost mechanically, handing over the payment to the chief removal guy and watched him leave the apartment. It wasn't even noticeably emptier. Chandler took the envelope with the longer note and a cheque for Joey, to tide him over until he found a new roommate, and pinned it to the bag of Joey's favorite potato chips, knowing Joey would find it there. 

Chandler shouldered the rucksack with his ticket, wallet and enough clothes for a few days in it, looked slowly around the apartment and waited for the others to return. 

Their return was louder than he'd predicted. Perhaps the meager number of items of furniture he'd decided to take with him had made a difference, changed the acoustics or something. There was giggling, and some muttered comments, and Monica's high laugh, sounding happy and content, but also slightly tense to Chandler's heightened sense of perception. 

"This is so great!" "You two are so sweet." 

Chandler wished he couldn't hear those words, the words he didn't want to hear. After waiting the longest minute of his life, wanted them to be settled in before he barged in and told them he would be going away. They didn't have to know how long for, that he didn't plan to come back.

He swallowed, put his hand on the door, opened it and left, his back to the apartment and all the symbols it involved: security, friendship, love, _home_. 

Staring at the opposite door, the number 20 shining more than the 19 plaque behind him thanks to Monica's obsessive cleanliness, he pressed his lips together and experienced an emotive flashback, back to when he was eight and stuck on the very top of the climbing wall at school, wanting to get back down, to avoid the pointing and laughing and that dizzy feeling of being too high, but not being able to. _I can't, I can't, I can't_, his thoughts blared at him, then and now, only this time there would be no comforting words from someone supervising his actions. 

Forcing a more neutral expression, he pushed open the door and attempted a casual nod to the six facing him. 

"Had a nice time?" Chandler asked, feeling the need to be polite. 

"Yeah, the food was great and there was this _really_ cute waitress," Joey enthused. "Pity you couldn't be there, man."

Chandler refrained from looking at Monica on the grounds it would hurt, looked anyway, and hurt. He looked away just as quickly. "Yeah, work and such." He shrugged aimlessly. 

"You don't have to stand in the doorway. We're your friends, we don't bite," Rachel said sipping from a glass of juice and flickering a few longing glances at the ring on Monica's finger. 

"You've _met_ Joey, right?" Chandler said, trying to say something funny to hide what he was really feeling, stepping in and closing the door behind him. 

"That's not funny!" Joey scowled, and then noticed the bag. "You going somewhere?" 

"Yeah. Gonna go see my mom, y'know." Chandler shrugged as if it was nothing. 

Ross' face screwed up. "This has gotta be the first time she's invited you in forever." 

"It was more like I invited myself," Chandler said, knowing they needed to know a little of the truth. Six years upwards of friendship deserved that much. "I just came to say goodbye." 

There was a polite decisiveness about his tone that made them uneasy, and Phoebe peered at him narrowly for a long second. "How long will you be gone? 'Cause I'm not dealing with the tears from the chick and the duck if it's longer than a week."

Chandler muted the brief smile that threatened to instantly cross his face, a stark contrast to his dour mood. His friends were always there to cheer him up when he was down, and that was exactly what made it all the more worse. Chandler felt very abruptly what Kip must have felt, and felt a twinge of sympathy for his old flat mate, resolving to drop him a bell one of these days. "Does the chick cry?" 

"When you're not there? Are you kidding, when you were in London it cried like a baby!" Phoebe smirked in self-satisfaction.

"When we were in London you forgot about them and left them without food for four days," Joey said, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Enh, yeah! I forgot about that. I made up this great story about how I fed the chick and duck every day and dried their tears over the two of you to make myself feel better." Phoebe wrinkled her nose at Chandler. 

"Well, anyway, the taxi'll be here soon. See y'around, I guess." 

He turned to go. 

"Wait!" Joey leapt to his feet. "You didn't answer Phoebe's question. How long are you going for?"

Chandler turned, his insides contracting in fear, unable to avoid answering the one question he'd hoped he wouldn't have to. Joey stepped forwards, facing Chandler, and stared at Chandler. 

"How. Long." Joey enunciated the words firmly, with a strength of projection his Drama class teacher would be proud of. 

"I don't know," Chandler retorted quietly, keeping eye-contact with Joey. Joey's brow furrowed as he thought rapidly, and then when he came up with the answer the next stare was full of betrayal. 

"This is forever, isn't it? You're runnin' out on us!" Joey's voice rose in an angry crescendo. "You aren't coming back!"

"What?" Ross, Rachel, and Phoebe crowded to their feet. Monica and Richard were stood already, although Monica stepped forward involuntarily at the words. 

Chandler looked at the door, then at the accusing glances of his friends. "I guess not." 

"You _guess _not?? Wha- I mean wh- _Why_?" 

Chandler shrugged, a brief inclination of his head. "Because I have to. Because- because I can't stay here and still be me, if I stay, I'll lose myself!" Despite his earlier resolve for self control, his voice was rising in volume too. "Because- I wasn't the best man for the job," he finished, looking directly at Monica with a lost, self-hating smile as if his heart was breaking. 

He looked down at his own feet, not wanting to see the others changing, bewildered expressions. Then he looked across directly at Richard. "Can I give you some advice? You've got her. Don't let her go again, 'cause if you do-" 

He couldn't finish the sentence. 

"Well, good luck with the rest of your life," he said simply, now lifting his gaze to his friends, hurting so much more inside than he'd ever thought possible, before he turned and staunchly walked away. The door swam before him slightly, blurred by the tears threatening to fall and shatter on the ground, and he swallowed, opened it and stood stock-still in the doorway. "I would have given you everything, y'know. I love you," he said, quietly as if he was caressing the words, but with a crystal clear sharpness that sounded through the whole apartment. He walked out, pulling the door shut behind him, a seemingly diminutive figure carrying a rucksack falling into obscurity. 

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End file.
